


Eye Opener

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:52:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: root and shaw prompt: takes place years after Samaritan was taken down. root and shaw have been together a really long. years. they still get numbers. one day they get these two numbers of best friends that have always been in love with each other, but never took that "next step" they end up only saving one of the two numbers and they see how broken the one they saved is. that night, they're mindlessly watching tv and Shaw's just looking at root and says "marry me"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye Opener

"I see it! I see it  _all_!” A woman in draped cloth and too much perfume tells Shaw and Root, stopping them mid-walk down the street. Her hair is white and wiry, paired with distant but large blue eyes. Her skin is pale and taut, white teeth sparkling in the sun. Shaw brushes past her, ready to move on, but feels herself yanked back. Arm interlocked with Root’s, she hadn’t realized Root stayed stationary throughout. Pursing her lips, Shaw settles back beside Root, eyes narrowing at this woman. The woman gives her a coy smile. “You think I’m a con.” Her voice is melody, syllables lifting and falling on notes. “But I can  _prove_  to you I am not.” Shaw rolls her eyes, wanting more than anything to get away from this woman.  _It’s forty degrees and she’s wearing some gypsy costume from the dollar store_ , she thinks in annoyance.

"You work- no  _worked_ \- for the government,” she says, and Shaw becomes rigid. “You met this woman at your present job, what is her name-  _no_!  _Don’t_  tell me!” She says with excessive drama, bringing a hand to her forehead. “It is part of a tree! Her name is part of a  _tree_!” Root and Shaw share mixed messages in their eyes, but one is shared between both equally: suspicion.

"How did you know that?" Root asks kindly. All around them people hustle by, barely noticing this wacky character on the sidewalk. She gives Root an amused look.

"I- Madame Pandora- see  _everything_! I see it all. I see all past, and I see all  _future_!” Shaw snorts.

* * *

 

"Yeah, okay,  _lady_ ,” she responds humorously. “You can see all of somebody  _else’s_ future; we’ve gotta go.” Shaw begins to pull Root away, but Madame Pandora grabs Root’s hand, holding her back.

” _Hey_!” Shaw shouts angrily. “Get  _off_  of her!” She shoves the woman, who instantly wraps a hand around Shaw’s wrist. Her eyes go wide, and a crazed smile comes to her face. Shaw tries to yank her hand back, but it is stuck in the woman’s thin, wrinkled grasp. She can feel the woman’s long, purple nails cold against her skin. Madame Pandora’s eyes are dancing back and forth, seeing something in their out-of-focus state. Finally, she comes to, but the eerie smile remains.

"That will be  _beautiful_ ,” she says cryptically, eyes locked on Shaw’s. “Yes, it will be  _beautiful_.”

"What." Shaw sneers; Root watches between the two women as if it were a high speed tennis match. The woman brings her face in closer.

In a silent but awed voice, she replies, “The wedding.” Steaming with rage now, Shaw rips her hand from Madame Pandora’s grasp and stalks off with Root.

"Nice try!" Shaw screams back to the woman without turning to look at her. "But we aren’t getting married!"

"Not yet!" The woman shouts back, cackling. "Not yet! But it will be  _beautiful!_ ”

Speeding down the sidewalk, Shaw drags Root around the nearest corner before finally slowing her pace. “I  _swear_ ,” Shaw says as they walk casually once more, “the people in this city just get stranger and stranger.”

"I couldn’t agree more," Harold’s voice comes across the frequency of their ear pieces for the first time that morning.

"Morning, Harry," Root says, smiling.

"Hello. Sorry to interrupt your walk, but we have just received two numbers."

"Which one do you want us on?" Shaw asks, looking around at the people on the streets.

"Actually, Miss. Shaw, I was hoping to give you both."

” _Both_?” Shaw repeats skeptically. “I know we’re  _good_ , Harold, but don’t you think that’s excessive?”

"Well, Mr. Reese is still at work- Detective Fusco and he are being evaluated this evening. Besides, the two numbers will undoubtedly be together anyway."

"Who are they?" Root asks, and they come to a stop at the corner of the sidewalk. People push around them on either side, hustling off to work.

"Maya Holts and Bobby Myers; college students at the New York City College of Technology, and life long friends."

"What are they in for?" Shaw asks. Harold taps on his keyboard a few moments before answering.

"There doesn’t seem to be any record of misdemeanor or illegal substances. No ex-lovers that could be after them. My guess is wrong place, wrong time." Shaw nods.

"And where might we find them?" Root asks, pulling Shaw along to cross the street.

"Class is over for them in twenty minutes. Your best bet is to meet up with them outside the building."

"On it, Harold," Root replies, and the line goes dead.

"Who knows," Shaw says as they walk past a swarm of men in tuxedos headed in their same direction. "Maybe we’ll be crashing a  _wedding_  on the way there.” The sarcasm drips from her every word, and Root can’t help but chuckle.

_________________\ If Your Number’s Up /________________

Sameen Shaw and Root Groves stand to the left of a large, marble staircase that leads to pillars, and beyond them, a deep-set set school entrance. The white stone is met by a gray sky, giving the illusion of an ancient Roman temple. Suddenly, there is an old bell sound, and people swarm from the building in a rush. Women and men ranging from eighteen to twenty-seven rush by with satchels and laptops, all eager to leave for the day. As the crowd clears, a few strings of stragglers meander out. Close to the last in the building, Shaw notices a boy and a girl coming down the steps. Looking to her phone, she checks the photos Harold sent, then stows the device away.

"It’s them." Walking forward, Root notices they are quite the lovely pair. The girl- Maya- is roughly nineteen, with strawberry blonde hair and dazzling green eyes. She’s small, perhaps five foot four, and has a small, leather satchel across her side. She wears denim jeans, brown boots, and a small smile as she looks over to Bobby. Taller by a few inches, he has shaggy black hair and olive skin. His backpack is pulled high on his shoulders, and his own jeans are baggy, met by tan work boots. His smile is bright white, eyes a stunning Caribbean blue, and they are glued to Maya. He talks, arms moving around with his words, and Maya laughs. Feeling a presence, the two look to their right, noticing Shaw and Root approaching.

"Maya. Bobby," Root greets, nodding to each in turn.

"Uh,  _hi.._.” Bobby replies, and Root notices him move forward a step protectively. Root gives him a soft smile.

"That’s real sweet of you," she tells Bobby, who gives her a slightly confused look. "You two make a nice couple."

Instantly, Bobby’s face pales, and he moves back to his former position, while Maya looks at her feet, blushing.

"We aren’t- we aren’t a couple," Maya tells them, sneaking a quick glance at Bobby. His ears are a bright pink, and he chuckles awkwardly.

"Just, just  _really_  good friends,” he tells them, looking to Maya with affectionate eyes. She doesn’t notice; too focused on these mysterious women.

"How can we help you?" She asks them, and Root and Shaw share a conversational look before fixing their gazes back on Maya and Bobby.

"We’re here to protect you," Root tells her honestly, and Maya laughs with good-nature.

"Protect us from what?" She asks.

"We’re not sure yet," Shaw deadpans, eyes traveling seriously to Bobby’s and back. "All we know is that the two of you are in danger."

"And who told you this?" Bobby questions, harshness coming to his crystal eyes. Root smiles kindly at him.

"A good friend," she replies with the slight crinkle of her nose.

"So you’re kind of like Charlie’s Angels," Maya ponders with a smile. Looking to Bobby, she says, "I’m in."

"You _are_?” He asks skeptically; she nods. “Alright, me too.”

Shaw and Root share a look- Root’s amused, Shaw’s bored- then begin to recede down the steps.

"So, what did you have planned for today?" Shaw asks, hearing the two students scrambling down the steps after them.

"Well, I was going to do laundry," Maya replies. "There’s a laundromat down the road from my apartment."

"And I was headed towards the library. Have to grab a book for this English project."

Root thinks a moment, coming to the end of the staircase. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up for now,  _so._..” She turns, looking to the numbers. She can’t help but acknowledge how close they stand to one another. “Which is closer?” The two look at each other, then Maya looks away with a small blush in her cheeks.

"The, uh, Library," he answers, looking to Maya with a soft smile.

"Great!" Root replies, clasping her hands together. "Then let’s head off."

___________\ We’ll Find You /_________

Somewhere between the college and entering the large, New York library, Maya drifted off with Root, and Bobby reluctantly gravitated to Shaw. Now, searching for the right book in the aisle way, he looks down to her.

"Are you and that other chick together?" Shaw purses her lips.

” _Chick?_ ”

"Oh, sorry," Bobby backtracks, knocking a book off the shelf in the process. "I- I didn’t mean- just that- are you and her- are you together?"

Shaw watches his fretful eyes a moment, kneeling down, she retrieves the book, then hands it to them. “Yes.”

"Were you friends before?"

"Well, you don’t just pick a girlfriend up off the  _street_.” He stops to look at her a moment, then nods.

"For how long?"  _Years? Before Samaritan was taken down,_ Shaw thinks to herself, contemplating what to tell Bobby.

"A while," she replies at last, and he nods. Looking through the long rows of books, his eyes catch sight of Maya and Root talking in nearby lounge chairs. A warm smile overcomes his face.

"And has it- has it been good?"

"Great," Shaw deadpans, getting annoyed with his interrogation. "Why are you asking?"

He looks to her, his eyes a fear and curiosity cocktail. “Just want to know if it all works out.” His eyes drift back to Maya, and Shaw glances that way.

After a minute, she replies, “You should go for it.” He gives her a stunned look, picking out the right novel. Shaw shrugs her shoulders. “Like Root said; make a good couple.” He swallows hard, eyes dropping down to his book. They begin walking towards the Librarian’s desk, and he slips it onto the table. Bobby looks to Maya once more, and feels his ears redden as she smiles over at him.

"I just- we’ve been friends practically our  _entire_ lives. And she’s never-“

"Has she dated anyone before?" Shaw asks as the woman scans the book.

"No."

"Been interested in anyone at  _all_?”

"No. And that’s what I’m nervous about. What if she’s not interested in  _me_? We’ve been best friends so long, I feel like that’s all she’ll want to be. And I don’t want to make some idiot move and screw it up.”

"The worst she can say is no," Shaw remarks easily. His brow furrows with worry at that idea. "But, with what I’ve seen so far," Shaw adds with assurance, "she won’t say no." Grabbing his book back, a confident smile comes to his face as he looks to Shaw.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," he says at last, stuffing the book into his backpack. "As soon as this is all over, I’ll do it. I’ll ask her out." Shaw smiles, then brings her gaze to Root. Looking up from her phone, they connect eyes, and Shaw gives a nearly microscopic nod. Root taps Maya’s knee, and the two get up. Coming to Shaw and Bobby, the four begin their walk to Maya’s apartment. The two kids lead the way, while Shaw and Root fall in step just behind.

"Get anything out of her?" Shaw asks almost inaudibly. Root gives her a coy smirk.

"Just that she’s  _very_ interested in our  _very_  single other number.”

"Thank God," Shaw sighs out, and Root sends an amused eyebrow raise her way. "I just gave the kid a pep talk." Shaw explains, and Root laughs silently.

” _You_? Give a  _pep_  talk? Are you sure?” Shaw rolls her eyes at Root’s humored tone, and Root bumps into her affectionately.

From just ahead, Maya and Bobby turn down a side street. A moment later, there is a scream, and Shaw and Root rush forward, drawing their guns.

"No!" Maya screeches, tugging against a man all in black. There is a man to his left, whom is struggling with Bobby. Just as Shaw comes up to intervene, the man rips Maya’s satchel from her grasp and runs off, the second man close at his side. Wearing black t-shirts and ski masks, Shaw recognizes a gang symbol tattooed to each of their beefy arms. "My laptop! I  _need_  that!” Maya dashes after them with Bobby close behind, calling for her to stop.

Shaw and Root look at each other, not pleased with a chase, but go along just the same. Pretty soon, they find themselves in a labyrinth of alleys, slowly weaving their way towards its core. They rush past squatters and small, dingy families. Finally, they come to a large, open center, met on every side with exits. In the center, Shaw sees a black van and a large group of men, all bearing that same tattoo. The men with the satchel streak forward, Maya close on their heels.

"Give that  _back!_ " She shouts, oblivious to the danger mere feet from her. One of the men near the van raises his gun, and Shaw quickly shoots him down. Kicking the wasps nest. All around, the men scream to each other and to the alley-homes’ windows. The gang’s men pour out like a colony of flooded-out ants, all fifteen ready for a battle.

Shaw and Root easily begin to pick off the men, shooting some and swinging at the others. Bobby shoves some men away, searching for Maya in the throng. One gets a good strike in on Bobby’s face, and blood instantly sprays from his nose. Another fist connects to his eye, and one more to the abdomen. He sinks to his knees, a guttural noise emitting from his blood stained lips. Root takes down her last attacker, then hurries to Shaw.

"Help… Him!" Shaw yells out, dodging and swinging against a large man with an even larger pipe. Root rushes to Bobby’s aide, shooting the first man in the knee and prying the other off with her hands. After a few hard blows to both parties, the man drops like a stone, out for the count. Root merely rubs a purpling spot on her jaw. Bobby stands shakily, eyes slightly out of focus. Coming to, his eyes adjust on a spot just past Root’s left ear. They expand as his jaw and stomach drop.

” _Maya!_ ”

All at once, three pair of eyes turn to look. And all at once, they spot her. Holding her own, she tears vigorously at the man before her, struggling to grab back her satchel in the process. With nothing more than a few scrapes, she is making out pretty well. However, what she doesn’t see is the man silently approaching from behind. Root raises her weapon, takes aim, fires. Nothing. Pulling the trigger again, she realizes with a sinking heart she is out of bullets. Shaw’s own firearm is twenty feet back, knocked from her grasp in the heat of battle. Bobby is the first to move, to run with shaky legs towards her, screaming her name in warning. But everything is slowed down- all crawling in their eyes.

The man from behind brings his hand to his back pocket, slipping a glinting, metallic object from it. He draws it up closer, closer, closer to her neck. Nearly on top of her now, Maya finally rips the bag from the first man’s hands. But none of it matters. For no matter how slowly this second man moves, she is still a step behind. He grabs her around the waist with a free hand, bringing the other to the far side of her next. With one, swift motion, he draws it back across her throat. No one can see her face. All they see is the draw-back of a knife and the spraying of dark crimson on the van’s black side. The men grab the bag from Maya’s loose fingertips, running off, as everything barrels back into motion.

Once more, everything comes to a normal pace, as Maya falls to a small, blonde heap on the ground. Bobby makes it to her first, throat raw from screaming to her. He flips her over, soft hair rippling like a waterfall from her face. His eyes draw back in mortification as he sees the dark red sprayed across her shirt front, feeling the warm liquid on his fingers.

Not a second later, Shaw and Root are at his side, breath held in overall shock. Maya’s eyes are glassy, expressionless. Blood spits out of the gaping wound across her neck, squirting out in random amounts, then traveling to the ground with haunting drips.

"Maya! Maya!" Bobby screams at her, thinking if he yells loud enough, she’ll hear him. From wherever she is right now, she’ll hear him if he shouts loud enough. If he calls out to her enough, she’ll have to answer. She  _has_  to. “Help her!  _Please!_ " His voice cracks as his eyes beg Root for help. He brings his hands to Maya’s neck, willing the blood to go back  where it belongs, wanting the skin to stitch itself back up. "You  _have_  to help her!” His eyes fog up, and a tear wells over, It runs hotly down his face, dropping to her forehead. Voice no more than a whisper, he feels all the life he has drain out with her. “Please,” he says in a final plea, but there is nothing left. Every living gang member limps or is carried off, leaving nothing more than four dead bodies and five lost souls. Shaw sees him, but mostly sees his eyes. Dead eyes. She sees the tears streaking down his face, and feels a pang in her side, knowing it’s not from any blow he faced. Just the single one she did. Shaw looks over to Root, sees her own clouded eyes fixed on Maya, flickering to Bobby momentarily, then back. Shaw wants to go over to her- comfort her in some small way- but decides now is not the time. Bending over, she rubs Bobby’s shoulder gently, then lifts him by the arm to a standing position.

"I’m sorry," Shaw says in a hushed whisper, not meeting his eyes. She tugs on his arm gently, slowly easing him away. His eyes never leave Maya.

"What- what are you doing?" He asks, voice shaky and distraught.

"We have to go," Shaw replies, yet he rips himself away harshly.

"What? And leave her here?" He shrieks with pained eyes. It looks like he’s taken a thousand hollow point bullets to the heart. _And who knows_ , Shaw thinks with a twinge in her own heart.  _Maybe he has._

"We can’t really take her with us," Shaw responds. He bites his lip, holding words in, and looks back to Maya.

"We can’t  _leave_  her here,” he counters with the effort of a puppy kicked one too many times. Root comes up beside him, putting her arms around his shoulders.

"She’s sending an ambulance," she tells him in a comforting tone, even though she knows he won’t ever understand who  _She_  is. “They’ll find her- they’ll bring her home.”

"We can’t leave her here," he says again, too numb to think.

"She won’t be here long," she tells him, easing him away from Maya’s body. Sirens call like seraph chariots in the distance. "See, they’re on their way."

"I’m waiting. Here." He says, stopping his dazed walk. "They need to know what happened. I can’t leave her here."

"Bobby, I-"

"Root." Shaw’s voice is somber, and Root’s sad eyes connect to her empty ones. "Let him." With one last, fleeting look at the boy, Root lets go and comes to stand behind Shaw.

"You said you were going to protect us…" His voice trails off as he comes to kneel beside Maya once more. "Why couldn’t you protect her instead?"

"Bobby?" Shaw says. He doesn’t move, but something tells Shaw she has his attention. "If you could leave us out of the story…" He nods without a word. Shaw nods herself, then turns to go. Root stands, watching him with a look that sends Shaw’s heart crumbling. She wonders if Root too, sees the possibility she does. That that could of been them-  _it could have been me, it could have been Root._  Not knowing what to do or say, Shaw slips her hand into Root’s, walking her away to the sounds of sirens and a shattered heart.

_____________\ Eye Opener /______________

They hadn’t talked since they got home. Said a few measly good nights to Harold, then walked to their apartment in silence. They made dinner in silence, but put it in the fridge in the end, neither one truly hungry. Ever since Maya, Shaw’s head had been restless. How dead she was- how easily gone. Bobby’s shattered, ripped apart look, those eyes that looked like they’d never move on. Having to walk away from them both. Something about it was eating at Shaw all throughout the night, and now, hours later, she finally figures it out. Sitting beside Root on the couch, the pieces finally click into place.  _He loved her. He knew it. She almost knew it._  But there was that one last lack of motion, that one action never taken, and that almost would remain forever. The two of them would never be anything more than an almost. _A maybe. A perhaps._  She puts herself in the position, seeing it all through Bobby’s eyes. Peering over at Root, she watches her face- glued to the television screen to focus on anything but this- and thinks. Thinks of how this is kind of like that. Their own little almost. She thinks of the devastation on Bobby’s face, and tries it on for size. She hates the fit.

"Root?" Shaw beckons, eyes still on her perfect profile. Her voice is scratchy, being out of use for so long. Her heart beats excruciatingly hard against her chest; she can feel it ready to burst out of her rib cage, but remains indifferent on the outside. "Root."

"Hm?" Root replies, eyes not leaving the screen. Fearing that if she does, she just might lose it.

"Marry me."

Shaw can feel Root go rigid on the couch, eyes freezing open, and Shaw’s heart leaps into her throat. Without looking at Shaw, Root slowly asks, “…What?”

"Marry me," Shaw repeats in the same tone. Not emotion-packed, but not dead either. She feels TNT detonating within her, nerves bursting like fireworks, waiting for a response.

” _Me_..?”

 _No, Shaquille O’Neal_ , Shaw thinks to herself sarcastically. She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowing with pursed lips at Root, to the same smart Alec effect. Root’s head turns to look at her, more than stunned at the sudden question.  _But is it really a question?_  Root thinks, mind reeling.  _No, it’s not a question. There’s no question for me_. A small, slow smile creeps its way onto Root’s face, part of her still not believing what her ears heard. But seeing Shaw, silent and waiting, a final burst of acceptance washes over her. A full fledged smile taking over her face, she lurches over and plants a large kiss on Shaw’s mouth, every fiber of her being screaming:

_Yes._


End file.
